


love.

by noelfishers



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Flashbacks, M/M, Mexico, Mickey Milkovich Moves On, Mickey Milkovich in Mexico, Mickey Never Goes Back For Ian, Moving On, NSFW, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Mickey, POV Mickey Milkovich, PTSD Mickey, Past Gallavich, Plot, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 07:17:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16949478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelfishers/pseuds/noelfishers
Summary: mickey milkovich has been through a lot in his lifetime. a father that beat him, a sister he never felt loved him, and a significant other who abandoned him. hes alone and lost and then he finds him.





	love.

**Author's Note:**

> note : i'm extremely anti-gallavich but this fic will depict mickey thinking of him therefore it'll seem extremely positive aside from his outbursts of anger due to not knowing what to do with emotions hes feeling.
> 
> second note : no, mickey will not return to ( SPOILER ) chicago to be with ian in prison because that ending, in my opinion, was absolute bullshit and romanticized prison-life for both people on the LGBTQ+ spectrum and with mental illness.
> 
> third note : when i envision alistair i envision aaron taylor-johnson from nowhere boy

mickey found himself walking his dumb ass along the road, phone out and on google maps as he delivered his ass to the nearest bar. his car was currently in shop, something was fucked with engine, and his anxiety was through the fuckin’ roof. he needed a drink. thats all he could think about -- having a huge ass glass of cold beer and ignoring the fact that he was completely **_FUCKED_ **. some sports shorts adorn his hips. grey, loose fitting. white tank was tight against his body though, showing off his slight tan on his biceps, shoulders, collarbones. a long abandoned green sweatshirt from working overnight was wrapped around his waist and all of it was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. his forehead glistened and he raised a hand to wipe at it as he walked into the bar.

it wasn’t what he expected . . . maybe he should’ve read what kinda fuckin’ bar it was but he knows he would’ve shown up anyway. someone is singing, actually doesn’t have the worst voice. but there were a pair of tits involved so he wasn’t exactly interested. he seats himself, gets him that **GODDAMN** beer and turns to watch as someone new takes her place. hes announced before he walks on up and mickey finds that he likes the name. alistair. something different, something hes never heard before. not in real life anyway. when he sees him though his mind goes blank. eyes scanning over thick brown curls, ocean eyes, and the red dress shirt and leather jacket that adorn his frame. he expects the boys voice to be **amazing**. its not, its the absolute _worst_ and a smile breaks over his face. hand coming up to hide it from view and muffle the laugh leaving his lips. he feels a _little_ bad but despite everyone giggling at him the man seems to be having the time of his life with that guitar.

mickey ends up turning his back on him but his brain is still lost in what he was. _**gorgeous**_. he still hears him singing as he nurses the refreshing liquid. its when his singing stops that mickeys eyes are back on him, flicking down his torso as joins him at the bar. takes a seat right beside him **_!_ ** and gets a beer of his own, “ nice singing, _elvis_. “ mickey mutters, grin breaking over his lips and head tilting ever so slightly. yeah, hes not going to lie. maybe his eyes dip below the other boys waist when he says that, checking out his dick just a little, enough to be flirtatious . . . but not outright creepy. another large swig of beer and mickeys glass is almost empty for the third time. his words slur slightly but hes mostly coherent. all he can think about in that moment is damn he can play the guitar, damn he looks good, damn i want him up on me.

alistairs cheeks are flushed from being on the stage with lights beaming down on him but mickey has a feeling that its not just that causing the redness to linger there. he fumbles to place the red guitar against the bar stool as he sits, “ thanks man. “ he says with a cheeky smile gracing his lips, “ means a lot “. he'd just come from a nearby nursing home where he'd just spent some time talking to the people that resided there, played his guitar for them, got them to laugh with his dumb jokes. he loved doing things like that so he tried to do them as frequently as he could. he wished it was more. but that was why he'd brought his guitar and how he ended up getting on stage. a couple people had seen it resting on the chair next to him and encouraged him until he'd waltzed on up. when he'd gotten on the stage he hadn't expected mr. hiding-his-laugh to catch his eye but he did. he couldn't head the brightness of his smile from him even if he covered it with his hand or turned his back to him. he liked that, it was a good first impression, so he sat next to him.

mickey finished the glass of amber liquid and ice and pushed it back towards the bartender who filled it on command. he doesn’t touch it though, rubs at his right bicep. he used to be much more pale but if you spend enough time in mexico you can’t help but get the sunkissed look blissed upon your skin. soft pink lower lip is trapped between straight white teeth and slowly slides as he releases it before returning it to freedom, “ so, maybe its a little fuckin' forward but . . . if i bought you a beer would you be willing to give me a ride a couple roads from here ? “ he asked, head tilting without second thought to let his soft blue irises rest on the other boys face. he picked up on the slight hint of freckles there. he likes it a lot he decides. a gruff clearing of his throat, “ car broke down and i managed to push it to a shop and walked here to wait but . . . i honestly don’t want to walk back. “

human interaction has become abnormal for him, reaching out has become even more abnormal to him, but he finds himself getting fidgety and uncomfortable in a different way than before. the other times he’d wanted to run but right now he felt like he was on cloud nine.like his feet were lifting off the ground, like he’d just smoked some incredibly fuckin’ weed that let his stomach warm and skin tingle,  like the first time he’d gotten fucked by ian gallagher, before his dad had walked in and shattered the aura he’d had around him. that feeling . . . and he can’t help but chase it, chase the feeling of knowing he’d be let down in the end but at least he’d gotten a taste.

**Author's Note:**

> want more ? let me know by leaving comments and by hitting the kudos button !


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